


The Costumes We Wear

by JayceCarter



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:31:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9998087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Deacon is most comfortable being other people, so when he notices Nora's unrequited lust for a few of their friends, he is only too happy to step in and fill those fantasies. What starts as harmless fun, however, becomes more complicated when Nora starts feeling more for Deacon. And the worst part is, he's feeling the same way. Can he let go of his costumes in exchange for something real, or will he throw away the only thing he's really wanted in a long time?***The main story ends at Chapter 15. After that are additional scenes outside of the main story arc***





	1. Chapter 1

“You want to keep your eye fucking to a minimum?” Deacon hopped up and sat on the waist-high wall Nora leaned against.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” What a lie. Nora knew exactly what he was talking about, which was the way she was drooling over Paladin Danse working on his power armor, his wide back covered in sweat, visible even through his brotherhood jumpsuit. The man looked delicious.

 

“Right. Because you’re totally not imagining crew cut over there putting all those muscles to better use on you.”

 

“That’s right, I’m not. And if you want to keep your kidneys where they are, I suggest you leave the topic alone.”

 

“Never been a fan of kidneys, personally. You ever think about just telling him?”

 

Nora crossed her arms and stared off into the distance. Oh, he knew alright. He’d given her an hour-long conversation on the risks of fraternization. He also made sure she understood that her attraction to him was transference due to him being her superior officer, and had nothing to do with them. By the time he’d left her alone, Nora had felt like a dog being scolded for humping the couch.

 

“Oh, you already told him. And he didn’t go for it? Fuck, Charmer, I’m sorry.” Deacon used his foot to push at Nora’s arm. “He go for men? Because, I might be interested. Maybe you could put in a good word for me.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Deacon laughed softly before tugging Nora over so she rested against the wall between his knees. Nora had grown used to Deacon. He was physical in a way most people weren’t, willing to hang all over her just because. The truth was, he was the only one to do that. The other men, the ones she had interest in, all seemed to treat her like a fragile item. Nick acted like an old-school gentleman, always holding doors open and pulling chairs out. Danse acted like her mentor, someone who saw her as someone who needed his help and training. MacCready treated her like his boss, and while he ran his smart mouth at her, he did nothing else. Hancock flirted, but refused to cross any lines, never even touched her. In the end, they all refused to go that step further. She’d taken more than her share of confidence hits with all the nice ways she’d been turned down.

 

This wasn’t even about Danse. She really was just tired of no one wanting her, of people acting like she was something too important to touch, to desire.

 

But not Deacon. Even if he hadn’t shown any sexual interest in her, his hands were always on her. He hugged her, he slept beside her, he laid his head in her lap when she sat down. There was little time when they were together where he wasn’t touching her.

 

“You really want him, don’t you?” Deacon set his hands on her shoulders, massaging the tight muscles there. She leaned back into the touch, into his warmth. Deacon was safe, because he was so damned untrustworthy.

 

“Fuck, yes, I do.”

 

“Well, you do happen to know an extraordinary spy with many amazing disguises who might be willing to play along for you.”

 

She stilled, her body going ridged between his legs at his suggestion. “You don’t mean?”

 

He leaned in and pressed his lips to her ear, his breath sliding against her, drawing a shudder. “What I mean is if you want to scratch this Brotherhood itch you have, put on your Brotherhood jumpsuit tonight. I’ll come over and we’ll play soldier.”

 

He took her earlobe between his teeth and tugged before letting her go and hopping off the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

Deacon smiled as he walked into Home Plate to find Nora in her orange Brotherhood jumpsuit. It didn’t hug all her curves the way he’d like, but fuck if it didn’t show off her ass. She didn’t see him right away. When he walked in, she was facing the bar at the far wall, beer bottle in hand.

 

A bit of liquid courage?

 

He couldn’t blame her. This was new for them both, but of course it was safer for him. He was playing a role, giving her a fantasy, nothing more. She was the one exposed.

 

“Drinking on the job, soldier?”

 

Nora jumped, turning around and bumping into the bar. The bottles on top clattered together. “Fuck, Deacon, you scared me.”

 

Deacon walked up, his own orange jumpsuit uncomfortable but necessary to sell the fun. “Excuse me, Knight Smith, but is that appropriate language to use when addressing your superior officer?” He reached out and snatched the bottle from her hand. “First drinking while on duty, and now insubordination. You’re just digging yourself into a deeper hole.” He wrapped his fingers in her hair and tilted her head back.

 

Her pupils had blown wide, hiding almost all the blue of her eyes. Her pulse went crazy beneath her pale skin. Yeah, she wanted this. He tried to hide the smile and stay in character.

 

“Deacon, please-“

 

“Who? Come on, you know my name.”

 

She frowned and he yanked her hair. “Danse?”

 

“That’s not quite formal enough.”

 

“Paladin Danse.” The name came out on a moan, and Deacon leaned in to kiss her.

 

“Better. Now, what should we do about these infractions, Knight? It seems you’re in need of a reminder of who exactly is in charge.”

 

“Whatever you think is best.”

 

Oh, he liked the sound of that.

 

He released his grip on her hair. “On your knees.”

 

Nora slid to her knees, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a prettier sight. Her cheeks had a pink flush over them, lips glistening from their kiss.

 

He undid the clasp at the throat of his jumpsuit, then pulled the zipper down. He’d worn nothing underneath for easy access. “Come on, soldier.  You have great instincts. I’m pretty sure you can guess your punishment for your infractions.”

 

She licked her lips as she stared at his cock. It twitched in response, but he held still, stayed in character. Paladin Danse wasn’t the sort of man who’d push too fast. He valued control over all things. He ordered and expected people to follow. So Deacon only cocked up an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

 

Nora nodded and scooted closer. She reached up and wrapped a hand around his length. She slid her hand back, retracting his foreskin. He wanted to moan, but held it in, just breathed deeply. Her tongue darted out, and she licked a stripe up the bottom of his cock, then slid it over the slit.

 

Deacon set his hands behind him, clasping them together at the small of his back to keep them still.

 

“This is punishment, solider, not playtime. Get to it.”

 

She flashed a grin up at him before sliding him into her mouth. His shoulders tightened, arms flexing behind him at the feeling. Fuck, her mouth was warm and perfect. She didn’t go fast, didn’t take him deep, but he still had to fight the desire to come. He never thought he’d see Nora like this, on her knees, his dick in her mouth, desperate for him, even though he’d imagined it enough times.

 

Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, toying with the foreskin. The girl knew we way around a cock, he had to admit it. When he felt like he couldn’t hold it anymore, he pulled out of her mouth with a loud pop. “Satisfactory work. However, I suspect you were enjoying it far too much. Strip and kneel on the couch, leaning over the back.”

 

She hopped up and pulled her jumpsuit off, nearly falling over in the attempt. Only years of practice kept the stupid grin off his face. She’d always charmed him, which was the reason he’d persuaded her into going by Charmer.

 

“Knee’s apart,” he snapped when she leaned over the back of the couch. She obeyed, knees spreading. “Time for an inspection of the troops.”

 

He ran a finger up her slit, detached, like it meant nothing. His fingers came away wet. She shivered against the touch and tried to look back. “Eyes forward, Knight.”

 

She jerked her gaze back to the wall.

 

Deacon placed a hand on the small of her back, his other hand continuing to stroke her slit, careful to avoid her clit. “I’ve received complaints about you.”

 

“What sort of complaints?”

 

“You’ve been very inappropriate around the other soldiers. Wearing clothing too tight, tempting them. Why, you even tried to get me to fraternize with you.  What sort of Brotherhood Soldier does such a thing?”

 

“I’m sorry.” She wiggled her hips, trying to get his fingers where she wanted them.

 

Deacon was having none of that. He slapped her ass once before returning to his touches. “Be still and take your punishment like a soldier.”

 

“Yes, Paladin Danse,” she moaned.

 

Fuck, he liked that. Something about her thinking about another man, of him being another man, it made him want to drive into her, to take her, to make her scream someone elses name. Thank God there were no therapists anymore because they’d have a field day digging apart his brain.

 

“So, since you refuse to follow proper military etiquette, it seems I’m forced to show you exactly why you shouldn’t be tempting soldiers. Because one time, you’ll tempt the wrong one.” He pushed his fingers into her cunt. “And guess what? Now you have.”

 

Her knuckles faded to white as she gripped the back of the couch, back arching, muscles straining to keep still even though she didn’t want to.

 

Deacon pulled his fingers out and lined his length up with her entrance. She was dripping wet, ready for him, so he pushed into her in one go.

 

She gasped, forehead dropping down to rest on the couch. “Fuck, yes.”

 

Deacon pulled out until just the tip remained inside her. “Quiet, Knight. This is punishment. I’d hate to think you were enjoying it.” He placed his hands on her ass, spreading her, and ghosting a finger over her hole. “If you decided you liked it too much I’d have to find another way to punish you.”

 

She shook her head, body nothing but a mess of trembling want. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be good.”

 

He smiled, moving his hands to her hips, before thrusting in. “I like you like this. You run around like a soldier, but maybe this is what you were really made for. After seeing how you throw yourself at any of your brothers in arms, I think maybe you this is all you really wanted. What do you think?”

 

“Yes. Fuck, yes. This is all I want, for you to take me, to use me.”

 

Her words surprised him, and he rewarded her by leaning over her and nipping her shoulder blade. “What a good, honest soldier. Go ahead and play with yourself, but don’t you dare come.”

 

Nora reached one hand down, between her legs. Her shoulder moved, and he could tell how quickly she rubbed her own clit. He wished he had her spread eagle, to get a better look, but hell, his imagination was pretty damned good.

 

“Maybe I’ll drag your ass up to the Prydwen, huh? I’ll let Maxson have a try. He is Elder, after all, and I’d bet he’d love to see you like this. Maybe we’ll get you on your knees in front of him on the Command Deck while he’d giving a speech, everyone watching.”

 

“Please, Deacon-“

 

He shoved in deep, growling in warning.

 

“-Paladin Danse. I need to come, please.”

 

“What an undisciplined Knight. Can’t even hold out for one little fucking? After all the show you’ve put on about wanting it?” He made a show of sighing, as if the whole thing annoyed him. “I’m almost there. If you come before I tell you to, this punishment will seem a like a walk in the park.”

 

She whimpered and squirmed, every muscle tight, twitching. He took pity on her and stopped playing, chasing his own release. It didn’t take him much, not with the sight she made, with the way he watched his cock disappear into her. “Now,” he commanded, and she tightened down on him so hard he had to stop thrusting. Of course, the way her body milked him, it was more than enough to get him off too.

 

Her body trembled, tiny aftershocks causing her to gasp. He slid out of her, and she moaned.

 

He held her hip, steadying her. “You okay?”

 

She nodded as she slid down to a sitting position on the couch. “Yeah, thanks.”

 

He wanted to pull her upstairs to the bed, to crawl beneath the covers, to hold her all night.

 

And there were a billion reasons that shit wasn’t happening. Where had that thought even come from?

 

Deacon shook his head and pulled the jumpsuit back on. He needed to get out of there about two minutes ago, like before any of that nonsense slid into his brain.

 

He smiled and winked at her before walking toward the door. “Anytime, Knight. Try to behave from now on.”

 

Her chuckle followed him as he left, trying to ignore the weird shit suddenly rattling around in his head.  


	3. Chapter 3

 

Nora smoothed her hair in her pony tail as she drank her coffee. The Cambridge Police Station was always noisy ever since the Prydwen had arrived. Before then, it had been her own little slice of privacy, with only Danse, Haylen, and Rhys to bother her.

 

Now, even though she arrived near 3AM, soldiers went through the station, the whir of power armor filling the morning hours.

 

Deacon was picking up a Dead Drop, and would meet her there in a while. He’d left a note for her, which she’d appreciated. It gave her time to think before having to face him, before having to deal with what had happened.

 

The night before still played in her head. It had been amazing. Nothing like she’d experienced before. Filthy, and wrong, and wonderful. Deacon had played her so easily, like he knew every trick, every way to tear her apart. The things that had come out of his mouth still made her shudder, made her want more.

 

“Morning,” came a deep voice that made Nora freeze.

 

“Morning, Danse.”

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah.” Nora held up a circuit board. “Got some tech for Haylen.”

 

“And you show up in the middle of the night to drop it off?” Danse sat across from her, his own cup of coffee in his hand.

 

“Had some trouble sleeping. I thought a stroll would help.”

 

“A stroll through the wasteland in the dark?”

 

Nora grinned and lifted her cup to her lips. “I always liked the dark.”

 

“The dark is not a good tactical choice. Ambush is more likely.”

 

Nora leaned back in her chair. Danse looked different, and she couldn’t pinpoint why. He just seemed, duller. He lacked the edge she’d been drawn to before. In fact, while sitting there, she couldn’t seem to figure out why she’d been so desperate for him.

 

“Who doesn’t love a good ambush, Danse?”

 

“I think that should be Paladin Danse, shouldn’t it, Knight?”

 

Nora turned to face Deacon, who leaned against the wall like he’d always been there. Damn, he was good.

 

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she remembered the last time he’d said similar words.

 

“There is no reason for such formality here.” Danse frowned, gaze darting between Deacon and Nora.

 

“I don’t know. I bet she could use some lessons on military etiquette.” Deacon grinned, his glasses reflecting the room back to Nora.

 

She threw an empty can of purified water at Deacon. It struck his shoulder, but he didn’t bother to move. Just continued to smile at her.

 

“This is not appropriate behavior for soldiers,” Danse said, standing up. “You’re acting like children.”

 

Nora smiled at Danse. “Forgive us, but Deacon and I need to have a conversation.”

 

#

 

Deacon laughed as Nora drug him into the back supply room. “You want to play the aggressive one this time? I’m game if you are. I might even let you tie me up if you ask nicely enough.”

 

She glared, face full of annoyance. “Are you trying to embarrass me?”

 

“Yes. I’ve always done that.” He scratched his chin. “I thought we were on the same page about that? I can’t imagine the sex was good enough you’ve lost your memory?” He grabbed her cheeks. “Oh my god, did I give you amnesia sex? Am I that good?”

 

Nora batted his hands away. “No. Not even close.”

 

“You sure? Because if I recall correctly you were mighty impressed last night.”

 

“I was thinking about someone else.”

 

“That was sort of the point, wasn’t it? I can be anyone you want. That Knight Rhys is might surly. Bet you’d like him to take all the rage out on you.” Deacon walked forward as she backed away. Her ass hit the workbench, and he gripped her hips to lift her on it. He slid between her thighs and nipped her ear. “I’d be Haylen for you, but I don’t have the right parts for her. Even I have my limits.”

 

Nora release a soft laugh, and Deacon took the opportunity to kiss her. She tasted like coffee and sugar.

 

A bang on the door had her breaking the kiss.

 

“Come on, Knight. The supply closet is not an appropriate place for a-“ Danse hesitated. “-private conversation.”

 

Deacon leaned in and whispered in to her ear. “So are we going to play again?”

 

“Yes,” she answered with no hesitation.

 

“Good. I can’t wait.” He kissed her once more before helping her off the workbench.

 

Who would he get to be next?


	4. Chapter 4

Nora pulled at the straps of the red dress Deacon had left for her. It caught the light of the flickering Diamond City signs, casting sparkles on the walls as she walked toward Valentine’s office. Deacon had put it in a box along with a note, place, and time. What he had planned, she didn’t know, but she trusted the man enough to show up.

 

Inside the office, Nick sat, looking over files at his desk, head down. He lifted his head and smiled.

 

No, it wasn’t Nick. It was Deacon, in a trench coat and fedora just like the detective wore. “Thanks for coming, Doll.”

 

“Where’s Nick?”

 

He dropped his head back and sighed, loudly. “You suck at this, you know that? Look, I have Nick and Ellie out on an errand. They’ll be gone until tomorrow. I picked the lock. So we’re all alone here for the night, alright?” Deacon’s gaze drifted over her. “You look good in that, you know that?” As soon as the words slid out, his face smoothed over, the way it did whenever he tried to hide something. He slid the smile she knew so well across his lips. “You ready, now?”

 

Nora nodded. “Yeah.”

 

Deacon winked then shoved the file out in front of Nora. “See, sweetheart, I’m thinking this case is a little more complicated than you first let on. Take a seat.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nora took a seat in the indicated chair, in front of the desk Deacon sat at. It reminded her of the time Nick had asked her about her past, about Shaun. She’d sat in the same seat, across from the Detective, who had behaved as professional as ever.

 

She’d had her questions about him, wondering if he thought about her, or anyone, with lust. He’d had the memories of a human, the personality, implanted into his synthetic brain, so why wouldn’t he? Still, he never acted that way.

 

Deacon leaned back as he lit a cigarette and slid it between his lips. “See, you said you were looking for my help, but it looks here like you’ve been breaking the law all over town.”

 

The game cleared up. Nora stood, then moved over to sit on the desk just to the side of where he sat. She crossed her legs, letting the hem of the dress ride up to show off most of her thigh. “There must be some mistake, Detective. I’d never do that. I’d never break the law.”

 

Deacon flicked the cigarette, the ash falling into the cup on the desk. “I’m a man with morals, Doll. I can’t just let this go.”

 

Nora took one finger and slid it from her bottom lip, down her chin, her throat, to dip between her cleavage. “I’m just a nice girl who is in a bit of trouble. Isn’t it your job to give aid to helpless women like me?” Nora uncrossed her legs and scooted until she was right in front of him, one foot resting on each of the armrests of his chair.

 

He raised an eyebrow as his gaze caught between her legs. She’d worn nothing beneath the dress. “Not sure there’s anything helpless about you, darlin’”

 

His hands set on her calves, and Nora jumped at the sharp, cold texture of one. He lifted the hand, a glove over it, with pieces of metal sewn in.

 

Metal that felt a hell of a lot like Nick’s skeletal hand would.

 

Her face flushed and she forgot the game for a moment. He kept in character, though, sliding his chair forward until he was almost close enough she could lean down and kiss him. “I can tell you’re a dangerous dame.”

 

She let her knees fall further apart as his hands traced up to her thighs. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

 

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

 

“Is it working, Detective Valentine?”

 

He slid his hands all the way forward, gripping her ass and pulling her toward the edge of the desk. “Yeah, Doll, it’s working. Set your hands behind you and lean back. I want to see what a pretty picture you make.”

 

Nora followed the direction, arching her back to give him the best view. He slid the hem of her dress up to expose her.

 

“So you want to admit what you’ve done?” He used the hand with the metal to press her legs further apart and pressed his other thumb to her clit. “Because if you just admit it, we can get to something you’ll enjoy a lot more.”

 

“Is this an interrogation?”

 

He smiled, and fuck if he didn’t look like Nick. The way Deacon slid into any role had always amazed Nora, but no more than when he played people they knew. Sure, he had skin, and his eyes didn’t glow, but he had the synths mannerisms down.

 

“Yeah, I think it is. And I hate tell you, but I’ve cracked better men than you.”

 

“But I’m not a man.”

 

He slipped a finger into her. “Oh, I noticed. That’s something that would be hard to miss. Now, sweetheart, if you just tell me what happened, I could stop talking, and if I stopped talking, I’m sure there’s something better my mouth could be doing instead.”

 

#

 

Nora’s breathing had sped up, and her hands curled against the desk as she tried to stay still. He had to admit, once she got started, she was better at this than he’d expected.

 

Deacon slid the single finger in and out of her, slow, deliberate, while brushing his thumb over her clit. He wanted her simmering, slow, not nearly close enough for any sort of satisfaction.

 

Nick would be methodical. The synth saw everything, read people with a glance. Any girl he got beneath him would be in trouble, because he’d use every trick in his book to please her. He wasn’t rash, wasn’t quick. He’d be slow, gentle, but attentive. Always the gentleman, that one.

 

So Deacon followed that, his hand with the glove going up to her chest. He slid the fabric of the dress down and ran the metal over her breast, careful not to push hard enough to break the skin. Thin red lines would be left, but nothing a night wouldn’t heal.

 

“Oh, fuck,” she whimpered and arched into the touch, seeking more.

 

“Sorry, Doll, but you have to admit what you did before you get anything more. You’re stubborn, and I normally like that, but I have a case to close before you can have anything.”

 

Her head dropped back, eyes closed. “I didn’t do anything, though. I’m innocent.”

 

“Ain’t nothing about you that’s innocent.” He hooked his finger up to rub against a new area, still as slow and practiced. “I can last longer than you can, I promise you that. Might as well give in.”

 

She shook her head. “I can’t. There’s nothing to tell.”

 

Deacon leaned his face in, blowing a stream of cool air over her cunt. “Come on, Doll. One little admission and I can do what we both want me to. I think you’d enjoy your reward for telling the truth.”

 

She gasped then shuddered. “Okay. I did it, Nick. Whatever you think I did, I admit it. I’m sorry.”

 

He laughed. It hadn’t really taken that long. Next time he’d have to find a way to make her hold out longer. Maybe gag her so she couldn’t confess. “Good girl. I do love a cooperative suspect.” Deacon pressed the flat of his tongue against her slit and ran it up and around her clit.

 

Her arms shook trying to keep her still. “Lay back, darling. It’s okay. You did good, now you can just relax.” She laid back, almost collapsing.

 

He pressed her legs fully apart, his metal-clad hand on her thigh as he sucked on her clit. Her hips bucked against the touch, trying to get more and trying to escape.

 

Deacon stood and pressed two of his fingers against her cunt, using his hips to push them in. “It’s too bad I don’t have all the parts, Doll. You have any idea what I’d do to you if I could?”

 

He took the hand with the glove and pulled her back to sitting, grasping her behind the neck to take the strain off.

 

“Using my fingers are half-measures, but it’ll have to do.” He slid his tongue into her mouth, capturing her moans as he fucked her with his fingers, his hips setting the pace. “I wanted you the second you walked into that vault. If you hadn’t had that handsome, charming spy with you, I might have tried. You would have let me, too, wouldn’t you, Doll?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why? Why do you want an old broken-down synth like me? You’re pretty, and I ain’t.”

 

Nora placed her hands on his shoulders, her nails biting into him. “I don’t know. I just, I saw you, and I wanted you. Those damned eyes, that metal hand, they’re so fucking sexy.”

 

Deacon laughed, thinking about how the poor synth would react to such a confession. He’d shuffle his feet and mumble before running off. Hell, this was probably the most of a sex life Nick had, and he wasn’t even there.

 

“You think I couldn’t tell? Each time you walked in here, that vault suit showing off everything, zipped down too much to be an accident. I’m a detective, sweetheart, I saw it all.” He sped his fingers, the action rubbing his hand against his dick, too. He groaned at the feeling, at how he denied himself anything more.

 

He’d walked in on Nick once at the Memory Den, when Amari was doing some maintenance. He knew damned well the synth didn’t have any bits, and he was in character. It meant his cock had to remained put away for this game. He’d take care of himself later, in the privacy of his own room.

 

“You gonna come for me, Doll?” He tightened his grip on her the back of her neck, so the sharper pieces bit into her skin. “Come on, show me what you can do.”

 

Her body seized down on his fingers, a loud gasp, nails digging deeper into his shoulders. He savored the bites of pain, the way she threw aside any thought while her body came. She looked fucking amazing. What would Nick think about seeing her like that?

 

Why was he thinking about Nick?

 

Because he was Nick, right then. He had to be.

 

He kissed her as she started to relax, as all the tension floated out of her, so he held her upright by his grip on her neck. Her lips tilted up against his, a soft grin. “Thanks,” she whispered.

 

“Anytime, Doll,” he offered, forehead against hers, not wanting to leave.

 

“You want to head back to my place, Deacon? We can spend the night there. You didn’t even. . .” she nodded toward his erection, the way it tented the pants.

 

He took a step back, so fast she had to catch herself on the edge of the desk. “Thanks, but, I’ve got some stuff to do. You can get home on your own?”

 

She frowned but nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I can.” She reached up, fixing her clothing, eyes avoiding his. “Well, have a goodnight.”

 

He backed away, heart pounding even though he didn’t know why, couldn’t understand his sudden panic. What the fuck was wrong with him? “Yeah, you too, Doll.”

 

The confusion and shades of hurt that played across her face bothered him, but he shut the door as he slid out of the office anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Nora drank her beer, feet up on the table. Deacon rushing out of the room wouldn’t stop playing in her head. The panic that had run across his face was new, something she wouldn’t have expected.

 

Sure, she knew he had issues. It was hard to take one look at the cheerful man and miss them. Perhaps she’d just missed how deep they ran.

 

“Hey, Charmer,” came his voice from over her shoulder.

 

Even at the top of a  random building in Boston, he could find her.

 

“You decided to stop avoiding me?”

 

He’d been gone for four days. Nothing but a note, again. Would she one day find a goodbye note, one that meant she’d never lay her eyes on him again? She choked down the idea.

 

“No idea what you’re talking about. I am a very busy person, you know. Empires to topple, cats to kick, deathclaws to deflower.”

 

Nora tossed him another beer from her bag. “Right. So we’re just going to pretend, huh?”

 

“I’m pretty good at pretending.”

 

Nora grunted, the warm beer doing little to cool the heat of the day that drew sweat to drip down her arms.

 

A few minutes later, Deacon spoke, voice softer than it had been. “Look, Charmer, I just don’t want any confusion. I like what we do. I like it a hell of a lot, but that’s all it is. It’s a game, it’s some fun, a way to pass the time and relieve some tension. I don’t want you getting the idea that there’s anything more to it.”

 

Nora’s skin felt too small for her frame. Well, wasn’t that the nicest rejection she’d gotten in a long time? She was always getting rejected, at the end. At least before it was by people who hadn’t actually fucked her. Of course, she couldn’t pretend to be surprised. Deacon wasn’t exactly whispering sweet nothings or promising forever when they were together.

 

“I get it,” she said.

 

“I care about you, you know that. I don’t want to see you get hurt over this. I thought you understood how this went, and I’m sorry if I led you on.”

 

Nora laughed and shrugged. If he could lie and hide, so could she. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

 

The conversation dropped off and only the beer sloshing in their bottles broke the silence. At least Deacon was honest about this. He lied about everything else, at least he told her he wasn’t interested before she really got attached. Wouldn’t it have been just her luck to take it all too seriously, to believe he loved her or some bullshit?

 

“So, what do you want to do?” He asked the question with the bland voice that said he didn’t care either way.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, do you want to keep playing this game of ours? If not, that’s okay. Doesn’t change what we’ve got going. We’ll just go back to how it was before.”

 

How it was? Before he touched her? Before she realized how much she missed the contact, the excitement, the craving of someone wanting her? No, she couldn’t give that up.

 

“I want to keep playing,” she said.

 

His lips pressed against her cheek in a soft kiss. “Alright.”

 

And just like that, he was gone again.

 

Always too far away to actually reach.

 

 

#

 

Deacon took the stairs down from the roof, leaving Nora to finish her beer and existential contemplation. He hadn’t meant to offer to keep playing, but it had slipped out of his mouth, like he couldn’t control it. He’d planned to put a stop to it for her own good.

 

The way she’d leaned into the kiss, the way she’d stared off into the distance, yeah, he should have called it quits.

 

He wasn’t getting involved, didn’t want more, but fuck if her face didn’t say she did.

 

Still, he couldn’t be blamed if he was honest? Right?

 

And the way she looked, naked and willing and desperate, the way she’d release this tiny gasp when he pushed into her, hell, he couldn’t let that go. He hadn’t had that much fun in a long time. As long as he was honest, that she knew he didn’t feel anything more, didn’t want anything more, that was all the could really do, wasn’t it?

 

She was a big girl, she could make her own choices, and she’d made hers.

 

She wanted him.

 

No, fuck. She wanted all the people he could be.

 

Deacon curled his hand into a fist and threw it at the wall. The crumbling drywall gave way, creating a cloud of dust and a pile of drywall at his feet.

 

“Head in the game,” he told himself.

 

He didn’t want her, and she didn’t want him. No one wanted him, and that was exactly the way he wanted it, the way it had to be.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Deacon. . .

Nora yanked hard on the metal square, trying to dislodge it from the destroyed houses frame. Sturges had made it sound so easy. Put up some defenses. Like it was a check list she could do in a few minutes.

 

He’d left out having to scrap everything in sight for parts, then having to build the things from scratch. He had better stay out of her way for a day or two, at least until her hands healed from the hundreds of tiny cuts she’d endured.

 

She shot people, she didn’t build shit. When Sturges decided to go face down raider gangs, then he could sit there and tell her to build things. Until then, she figured he could stick to what he did and she’d stick to what she did.

 

“General.”

 

Nora turned around to find Deacon in Preston’s hat. He didn’t wear the coat or gloves, just the hat. She rolled her eyes as he walked up, hands gripping a laser musket, same purpose driven walk as Preston. “What do you want?”

 

If anyone could get away with this, it was him. Hell, half the time he strolled through Sanctuary dressed as Sturges. No one batted an eye when he changed clothing, everyday like Halloween for the man.

 

“I needed a word with you in private, please. It is about a delicate matter.” He nodded toward the back of the closest house.

 

Nora laughed and followed him.

 

As soon as they’d turned the corner, Deacon pushed her against the wall and kissed her. He pressed his thigh between her legs, allowing her to grind her cunt against his leg.

 

“You seem tense, General. As a good second in command, I’d be neglecting my duty by not helping you with it. Tension can lead to distraction, and distraction can cause serious harm to our mission. We have to save the commonwealth, and to do that, you need to be at your best.”

 

Nora dropped her head against the wall on a groan when he cupped her breasts through her shirt. “Fuck, Preston.”

 

“I don’t think there’s time for that, especially not out in the open like this. I’d hate for anyone to walk up and see you in such a compromising position. This is all about you. I have to watch out for all your needs. What else are men under your command for?” His lips pressed against her throat, sucking hard enough she knew he’d leave marks.

 

Which she couldn’t bring herself to care about. She didn’t have to explain shit to anyone. Let him leave every mark he wanted.  “Taking your duties seriously, I see,” she said.

 

“Always. Do you want me? Tell me how much you need me.”

 

“Please, Preston, I need you.”

 

He leaned in and drug his tongue along the ridge of her ear. “Okay. First, General, I have something important to tell you.”

 

“What?”

 

“There’s a settlement that needs your help.”

 

As the words sunk in, he leapt away out of kicking range, dissolving into laughter.

 

“Oh, I’m going to kill you.”

 

She didn’t get the chance before the real Preston stormed around the corner. “There you are! Deacon, why did you take my hat?”

 

“The General needed it.” Deacon pointed at her like they were children who their parents had caught misbehaving.

 

“The General needed my hat?” He spoke the words slowly, like they might make more sense that way.

 

“She did. It was super important, super secret General stuff. She appreciates it, trust me.”

 

Preston seemed to be grappling with his temper, which said something for the stern but even tempered minuteman. Finally, he seemed to decide arguing with Deacon would get him nowhere. Instead, he looked at Nora. “Good, I’m glad you’re here. I just received word that a Settlement needs your help.”

 

Deacon laughed and dropped the hat back onto Preston’s head, giving Nora a mock salute before strolling back around the house.

 

Oh, she was going to make him pay for that.


	7. Chapter 7

Deacon pulled the hat down to shield his eyes as he walked through Diamond City. Being dressed like MacCready held risks, because the man had made plenty of enemies. The last thing Deacon wanted was a run in with a disgruntled customer or a gunner. Deacon had enough enemies of his own without adding MacCready’s to the list.

 

Walking around in this get-up wouldn’t have been his first choice, but Nora had left it for him with a time and place, just like he’d done for her. It seemed fair turn around to follow directions.

 

Not to mention, her taking the initiative in their little game excited him.

 

He didn’t mind calling the shots, taking note of what she wanted and providing it, but there was something thrilling about her doing it. About her deciding who she wanted him to be.

 

And if she wanted him to be the young mercenary with a smart mouth, then he’d give her that.

 

Deacon walked into Home Plate. “Hey, boss.”

 

Nora called from upstairs. “Up here, RJ.”

 

RJ? He’d never known MacCready to go by that nickname. Was she friendlier with the merc than Deacon knew? She’d traveled with him for a while, and still did from time to time, but Deacon was pretty sure nothing had happened.

 

Was he jealous?

 

Deacon shook his head. No. She could be with whoever she wanted. What did it matter to him if she’d actually managed to bag that one?

 

He took the steps, two at a time, until he reached the top. Nora leaned against the wall, dressed in a set of raider leathers she liked to wear when fighting. Her pistol was strapped to her thigh, blades hooked to her waist. The woman looked ready to head out into the commonwealth, not to spend time in a bed.

 

He grinned, trying to match MacCready’s cocky attitude. “You look good, Boss. What’s up?”

 

“Well, I think you aren’t pulling your weight.”

 

“Excuse me? You know there’s no better shot than me anywhere.”

 

“You’re okay. The problem is, I paid you 300 caps, and you haven’t been worth 300 caps.” She pushed off the wall and walked around Deacon in a circle until she stood in front of him. “I expect you to earn those caps.”

 

He cocked one hip out, setting a hand on it. “I will. It’ll be the best investment you’ve ever made.”

 

Nora pressed a finger against his bottom lip. He sealed his lips together, refused it entry. The merc wouldn’t give in easily.

 

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, RJ. I’ve been wondering if it’s any good at anything but spitting insults and quips.”

 

He narrowed his eyes, but still didn’t let her slid the finger past his lips, into his mouth.

 

“Who’s in charge here, RJ? Because I’m pretty sure it’s me. Come on, let me see how well you use that mouth.”

 

Deacon clenched his teeth together.

 

Nora chuckled before using her other hand to shove Deacon backward. His back hit the wall hard, and he gasped at the aggression.

 

Fuck, he’d never have figured this from Nora. She was sweet- foul mouthed, but sweet. It went straight to his cock.

 

His gasp was enough for Nora to slid two fingers into his mouth. They pressed at his tongue, rubbing over it. He considered biting her, but wasn’t willing to risk that. MacCready was feisty, but he was also smart.

 

“So here’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to do exactly what I tell you to. It’ll earn the rest of those caps I paid you. Think you can do that? Think you can be good?”

 

He tried to speak, but her fingers wouldn’t allow it. They started to thrust into his mouth. He nodded, instead.

 

“Good boy.” Nora withdrew her fingers before kissing him. “Strip. I want to see what we’re working with.”

 

Deacon’s cheeks heated as he removed the clothing. She stood there, watching him, making no move to take off her own clothing. The power dynamics uneased him, but excited him.

 

“Lay on the bed.”

 

He scrambled over, hesitating for a moment. How did she want him?

 

Her hands cupped his ass as whispered into his ear. “You’re being far more agreeable than I’m used to. No smart remarks?”

 

He opened his mouth, but she took the opportunity to bite down hard on his shoulder. Only a groan escaped.

 

“On your back, RJ.”

 

Deacon obeyed, every muscle twitching in want. He never figured someone taking control would do this to him. When he’d said she could tie him up, it had been a joke. He’d wanted a rise out of her, but fuck if he wasn’t interested in this.

 

The lines between RJ and him blurred.

 

He laid down, hands drawing into fists to keep himself under control.

 

“You look so pretty, you know that?” She undid her pants and slid them off, followed by her panties. However, she rehooked the pistol at her thigh and kept the belt of blades on her. She rested her weight on her knee on the bed. She slid her hands down his chest, following the dips of each rib. He wasn’t as thin as MacCready, and he knew he had more scars. The kid fought from a distance, and it had saved his pretty hide more than Deacon’s. He fidgeted beneath the exposure.

 

Nora slid her hand down, over his hipbones, but avoided his cock. She didn’t even brush it before touching his thighs.

 

He groaned, and she flashed him a smile. “Don’t get your hopes up, RJ. This is about paying me back, not about you getting off.”

 

“Get to it, then. Time is caps, you know.”

 

She laughed and moved up, lifting her knee and moving until she straddled his face, her cunt above his mouth. He tried to lick her, but she raised up to her knees, out of reach. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You need to follow directions a little better.”

 

“Never been good at that.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed. I suggest you learn, because if you don’t, I’ll use you to get myself off and leave you terribly uncomfortable. If you behave yourself, I’ll let you come, too. Fair?”

 

Deacon met her gaze from between her thighs, grinning before grabbing her hips and pulling her down to his mouth.

 

He managed one good lick before she knocked his hands off. “Looks like someone can’t listen. That’s okay, I figured as much.” She reached into the pocket of her jacket and produced a set of handcuffs.

 

She hesitated, character slipping. “This okay, D?”

 

The name made him cringe, but he understood. They hadn’t talked about anything like that, she wasn’t going to risk actually upsetting him. He nodded, unwilling to speak. An answer was some sort of acknowledgement that he was there, him, not MacCready.

 

To brush off the moment, Nora smiled again. She grabbed his wrists and cuffed them above him, hooked to the headboard. “There we go, that should keep you better behaved. God, RJ, you know how good you look all spread out like that for me? Maybe you can behave now that you can’t get yourself in as much trouble.”

 

She reached down, running a finger over her clit. Deacon tried to reach her with his tongue, but she shifted out of reach again. He growled in frustration, and she only laughed.

 

“Not sure why I even need you, really. Seems like I can do the work myself and keep the caps.”

 

“Oh, I can do it much better, trust me. Give me a chance and you’ll be giving me all your caps, Boss.”

 

Nora pursed her lips, like she was thinking the offer over. “You do love your caps. Bet you’d do anything for them. It’s a pretty good motivator for you.”

 

“So, come on, let me show you what I can do.”

 

She eased down, within reach, using her fingers to spread herself so he could lick directly at her clit. Deacon slid his tongue against her, rubbing it against her clit, groaning against the taste.

 

“This might be worth some caps,” she moaned, eyes locked on him, watching him as he worked her. He bucked his hips up against nothing, needing contact, friction, something. “Not yet. You know the deal.”

 

He yanked his hands, but they wouldn’t budge against the cuffs, so he focused his attention on her clit. He drew out gasps from her, chasing the way she’d move, the way she moaned. Deacon was nothing if not persistent when he wanted to be.

 

After a moment, her back bowed and she dug her fingers into her own thighs as she came. He didn’t stop, of course, didn’t give her a rest. Not until she pulled away with a glare.

 

“So you going to hold up your side of the bargain?”

 

She leaned down and kissed him, licking her own wetness from his lips. “Fair is fair.”

 

“Good, uncuff me. I’ll show you what else I’m good at.”

 

“Not going to happen. I said I’d let you come, I didn’t say you’d be in anymore control than you’ve been in so far.”

 

She slid down his body and straddled his waist. He twisted at the warmth of her hand when she gripped his length, then drew his hands into fists as she sunk him inside her.

 

“Fuck, RJ, you feel good.”

 

He lifted his hips when she wouldn’t move, but he had no leverage in his position. The strap of her pistol on her thigh scratched his side, and the way the blades on her waist jingled with each move drove him crazy. He wanted to take her, to shove into her, to have her hard and fast and exactly like he wanted her.

 

Instead, she pressed her hands to his chest and slid up, slow, tortuous, then back down. “Be good,” she warned. “Stay put like a good employee and let me use you, yeah?”

 

He gulped, but nodded. MacCready would stay still. Wouldn’t he?

 

Who the fuck cared what MacCready would do.

 

Nora’s pace quickened, her cunt still squeezing down on him from her last orgasm. Not that it mattered, she seemed determined to find another. The muscles in Deacon’s arms ached from his struggle to be still, to do as she said, to give her what she wanted.

 

“You’ve been such a good boy. Surprising, really. You want to come?”

 

“Yes. Fuck, Charmer, yes, now.”

 

She frowned, but he was too far gone to think about it. Instead, she reached forward to unhook his cuffs.

 

Deacon had her on her back in a second, lifting her knees and spreading them wide as he shoved in, hard and deep and exactly like he’d needed her. He leaned in and kissed her, trying to show her how fucking hungry she’d made him. “You like tying me up?”

 

“Yes. I like having control of you for once, forcing you to do what I say. You never listen to me, and I like when you have to. After that stunt you pulled with Preston, you deserve it.”

 

He growled, nipping at her bottom lip hard enough she gasped. “I’d never admit it again, but I fucking loved it. You made me want you so bad, till I couldn’t think straight.”

 

She wrapped her legs around his hips, using her heels to force him deeper, harder. Wasn’t that one of the amazing things? She wasn’t some damsel who couldn’t take a beating, wasn’t someone you had to worry about hurting. Deacon didn’t have to hold back with her.

 

Deacon wrapped his hand in her hair and forced her head back so he could pepper kisses and rough bites along her throat. He was close, but fuck, he didn’t want it to end, didn’t want the moment over.

 

He pushed in hard as he came, his face pressing against her throat, hands too tight but he couldn’t stop it. Something in him didn’t want to let her go.

 

“That was amazing,” she said and kissed the top of his head. “Thanks-“ she hesitated, as if tripping over names. “RJ.”

 

Fuck. MacCready. He’d gotten so wrapped up he’d forgotten who he was supposed to be entirely. He pulled out of her, trying to put back the pieces of his cover. “Yeah, sure, Boss.” His voice shook, worse because she seemed to see through it all.

 

He pushed up and off her, gathering the pieces of his costume, dragging them on.

 

Nora watched him in silence. She didn’t move, didn’t try to put back on her own clothes or talk to him. Fuck, was that pity? He didn’t want fucking pity.

 

They’d never do this again. Sex, sure, but never anything where she could take apart his control like this. He couldn’t risk it, couldn’t let it happen again.

 

“You take care of yourself,” she said, voice soft and careful. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

 

He nodded, pulling the hat on. “Yeah, course.”


	8. Chapter 8

Kellogg’s blood still covered Nora, but she didn’t give a shit. She couldn’t bring herself to worry, to clean it off, to find the energy to lift her head. She just sat in her old house, staring at the crib that belonged to a baby she’d never get back.

 

Hoping hurt too much. The truth was, she knew he was gone. It was in the way Kellogg had spoken, the way he’d laughed. The man knew she wouldn’t end this happy, wouldn’t get what she wanted.

 

Deacon sat beside her, leaning his back against the same wall she leaned against. He didn’t speak, just sat close enough his arm brushed against hers. Always there, the only solid thing.

 

The crib mocked her. She’d picked it out with Nate when she’d found out she was pregnant. The back railing had scratches because she’d been so anxious to put it together, she’d done it instead of waiting for Nate and put it backward at first.

 

It sat, a sick joke, like the rest of the house.

 

Fuck it.

 

Nora leapt to her feet and grabbed the end of the crib. She drug it toward the door.

 

Deacon didn’t ask her what she was doing, didn’t try to talk her out of it. He was at the other end just as fast, pushing to help her. He took her cues, helping to angle it through the hallway.

 

“Doll, what are you doing?” Nick rushed over as they got to the front door.

 

“I want this out of here.” The wood clattered down off the porch.

 

“Just take it easy, okay? Think this through. You don’t want to get rid of that, you’ll regret it.”

 

Nora let go of the crib and turned on Nick. “Fuck regret. Fuck this monument to all the shit I’m not getting back! I want this thing in pieces, nothing but splinters across the God-damned road!”

 

Nick wilted beneath Nora’s words, the synth who faced down Raiders bosses backing away from her mindless fury. If she’d been thinking straight, she might have even felt bad about yelling at him. He’d been good to her, kind no matter what. Right then, none of that mattered a fucking bit.

 

 “Think about it. You can’t get it back once it’s gone.”

 

“I don’t want it back.”

 

The lie sat there, and she dared anyone to call her on it.

 

“You’re scaring the settlers, darling. Come on, let’s go talk a walk.”

 

She reached back and yanked the crib once more, scrapping it across the sidewalk. “Not till I’m done. Anyone who doesn’t want to see it can go the fuck inside. I built this place, I keep ‘em all safe. If I want to lose my damned mind every once in a while, you can all put up with it.”

 

“Hey, Charmer,” Deacon said.

 

Nora turned toward him, ready to argue again, but he simply held a bat out to her. She wrapped her fingers around it, the weight so fucking right at that moment.

 

“Go on. Have at it,” he nodded at the crib while stepping back.

 

#

 

“She gonna be okay?” Nick asked as he stood beside Deacon.

 

Deacon wished he could tell the synth yes. Truth was, he had no idea. Rage like that consumed a person. He knew better than most how it ate at you. Loss did that, just emptied you till nothing else was left. He’d let it do that, let it turn him into a shell. “Yeah, she’ll be fine.” A lie or a promise?

 

Thirty minutes later, she’d reduced the crib to a pile of splinters. Sweat poured off her, drenching her shirt, smearing the blood that still covered her. Tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead, to her neck. She threw the bat, and it clattered against the wall of her old house.

 

“You done?”

 

She rested her weight on her knees before meeting his gaze. “Yeah. I think so.”

 

“Good. Come on, let’s go have a beer.”

 

She followed him up to the vault. He’d been down there before, but that wasn’t for then. They sat on the metal elevator at the top, the daylight warming it enough it would burn bare skin.

 

“How’d you know?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

She took the beer he offered. “Nick didn’t get it. How’d you know what I needed?”

 

Deacon shrugged.

 

“Don’t lie to me. Come on, I just destroyed any reputation I had with that little display. Let me have this one truth from you.”

 

He sighed, but she was right. He could offer her this truth, or at least some of it. “Because I know that sort of pain, that sense of loss. Not many understand that bottomless grief, but I saw your eyes, and I got it. I’ve been there myself.”

 

“What did you lose?”

 

Deacon pressed the bottle against his neck, wishing it was ice cold like the ones from the Third Rail. “My wife. Some-“ he hesitated, catching himself from telling the whole truth. “-people found her. They killed her.”

 

Nora reached out and slid her hand into his. “Fuck, Deacon, I’m sorry.”

 

The story was so much worse, but he didn’t need her to know that. She didn’t need to know that they’d targeted her, and him, because he’d run with them before. That the men who had murdered her had been his friends once, that he’d been just like them, nothing but a violent bigot, that it was all his fault. No, she didn’t need to see that shit.

 

“That rage you felt, fuck, I remember it. I blacked out after I found her and I killed them all. Tore through them, taking them apart. For her, for me, for the whole life we wanted to have that we weren’t gonna get. So, yeah. I got it. I so fucking get that sort of pain. Nothing quenches it quite like destruction.”

 

Nora rested her head on his shoulder, and he fought the urge to pull away from the touch. He didn’t deserve that sort of kindness. Sure as fuck didn’t deserve her. It’s why their game worked so well, he got to be other people. Anything but him.

 

If she knew that whole truth, knew what he really was, she’d never touch him again. He was too selfish to do that, so he kept his mouth shut.

 

All these costumes, these lies, these disguises, they were all because who he really was was so damned terrible. He was nothing but violent filth. At least when he pretended to be otherwise, he got to do something good, got to help others. When she touched him, though, it slipped beneath all those covers. She looked at him like she saw through it all, but she couldn’t.

 

If she did, she’d put him down. Hell, she should put him down.

 

Deacon laid back, ignoring the way the metal seared his bare arms. Nora laid beside him, her head on his arm.

 

For a moment, he forgot it all.

 

Too bad moments never last.


	9. Chapter 9

Nora laughed as Hancock slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. His skin had a warm edge to it, the radiation that poured off him. The Geiger counter of her pipboy announced it with clicks.

 

“You look amazing in that dress,” he purred.

 

The ghoul had a way with words, an ease that came with confidence. He knew what he was, and he refused to apologize for it.

 

“Thanks. Nick picked it out.”

 

“Well, the synth may not be much fun, but he has good taste.” Hancock all-out leered at her, gaze dropping down to her chest without any sign of shame.

 

The get together was Nick’s way of apologizing for the crib incident, she figured. Or maybe it was everyone’s way of getting her mind off Kellogg. Go a little crazy one time and people treat you like you’re made of glass. Hancock had been only too happy to host it at The Statehouse. Even Charlie was serving drinks there, disgruntled as usual, but there. Nick had walked up to her and given her the dress, a pretty green number that buttoned up the front, and informed her they had a date.

 

Deacon was somewhere, she was sure. He tended to skulk around at things like this, not wanting to be at the center of attention. She’d catch sight of him at some point during the night, in an absurd outfit, only those sunglasses enough to notice. Just the thought made her smile.

 

Still, Hancock was good company. He was uncomplicated.  

 

“You know, we should go out sometime.”

 

“What?”

 

“Hey, you take that spy with you. You take that synth. You even take MacCready and he’d shoot you in the back if he thought it would make him a cap or two. I’m pretty handy with a shotgun.”

 

Nora laughed and elbowed him. “You’re a bad influence. We’d get nothing done if I took you with me.”

 

He leaned in and pressed his ruined lips to her ear. “You’re probably right, but wouldn’t it be fun?”

 

She pushed at his arm, shaking her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

 

Still, he’d never really pushed this far before. A bit of flirting here and there was on par for the ghoul, but he’d never come right out and said anything. Tonight he crossed that line in the sand he'd drawn months ago, the one that said he'd flirt but never try anything. What had changed? 

 

Could Nora imagine them like that? The charismatic mayor had a reputation that said a woman would enjoy any night she spent with him, and Nora was hardly immune from his charms. She had imagined them, at least she did before. Now, though, she had trouble imagining anyone but Deacon. Even when he was other people, dressed up and pretending, she fantasized about him. In every persona, it was still him.

 

Not that he wanted that, or her. At least he refused to admit it. Nora had eyes, she saw the way he struggled, the way he slipped from character only to leap back into it like a hidey hole. Still, she couldn’t live on the hope that he’d change, that he’d decide to address whatever it was in his head that made him act that way.

 

So even though she wanted Deacon, he didn’t want her. Not then, and she had to be okay with it.

 

“Yeah, sister, I am. I’m going to make the rounds as it’s sort of my job. Keep yourself out of trouble, and if the mood strikes you later, you know where to find me.”

 

#

 

Deacon kept still as Hancock walked away.

 

Fuck, he hated that ghoul.

 

Okay, fine, he didn’t hate him. Not exactly. Hancock turned a blind eye and pretended not to see the Railroad activity in his town, which made them uneasy allies at least. Still, the way he’d wrapped his arm around Nora, the way he’d leaned in, it had Deacon’s hand on his pistol.

 

No.

 

He yanked his hand away. He’d given into his rage before, and it tended to leave a lot of dead bodies in its wake. Besides, Hancock wasn’t that bad, and Nora was fair game. They didn’t have anything solid between them.

 

It wasn’t like he’d given her any reason to believe she couldn’t be with anyone else. He wasn’t offering her commitment. Hell, he wasn’t even offering her the real him.

 

Not that she’d want the real him.

 

Deacon sighed and turned away. He hated parties anyway. His life involved looking in on everyone else, and nowhere did that seem more obvious than a party, where he walked along the outside, never part of it. Let Nora enjoy her time, and he’d meet her afterward in the room Hancock had let them have for the night.

 

Deacon might not be able to compete with Hancock, but he could sure as fuck be him for a night.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Nora laid on her stomach, spread out on the bed. Her cheeks flushed, the result of more alcohol than she normally drank, and her hair had fallen out of the pretty bun she’d secured it into at the start of the night.

 

Though, that was normal at one of Hancock’s parties. If anyone left sober, he took it as a personal affront.

 

Deacon slid over her on the bed, slow, careful. He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Hey there, Sunshine.”

 

She frowned and cracked open one eye. Her body tensed, jerking slightly. Her lips spread into a stupid grin when her gaze focused on him, realized who it was. It helped soothe his jealousy for a second. He might pretend to be Hancock, but she wanted him, not the ghoul.

 

“Hey there,” she whispered back. “I missed you at the party.” Her words slurred.

 

“Missed me? I was right there with you. I remember leaning in just like this.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice when he pressed his lips to her ear, when he snaked his tongue out to trace the ridges. He took his time, savored it. Hancock had only tried for a moment before Nora had elbowed him away, but she let Deacon play all he wanted. Fuck, why was he competing with the ghoul who wasn’t even there? Still, he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop trying to outdo him.

 

Deacon let one hand drift down between them, touched the outside of her thigh and slid up her dress. When he reached her hip, he grinned. “Nothing underneath?”

 

“Hope springs eternal,” she mumbled.

 

“You hoping I was gonna do this? That I’d follow you up here and take you?” He growled the words into her ear, biting down in punishment for the thought.

 

He lifted his body up and flipped her onto her back. She parted her thighs for him, her hands trying to pull him down to her mouth.

 

“Eager, aren’t you? You, sister, have had too much to drink.” He leaned down and kissed her, slow, leisurely. Hancock wasn’t one to rush, not if what he’d heard was right. He’d never heard any complaints about the Mayor’s abilities, that was sure. Hell, the damned ghoul would show her a good time.

 

“I’m fine,” she said against his lips, using too much teeth in their kiss.

 

 

Still, in character, he slid a canister of jet from his pocket and traced it against her breasts, through the fabric of her dress. “You are a pretty sight, you know that? Been thinking about you all night. I almost hauled you out of that party the moment you walked in.”

 

“Why didn’t you?”

 

“I have a reputation to uphold, you know. Mayoral duties that extend beyond-“ he lifted the jet to her lips –“fun.”

 

He waited for her to nod before pressing down the top and dispensing a dose. She sucked it down, making him wonder if she’d done this before. He wasn’t a fan of chems, but he some addictol just in case, and if he was going to play this game, he was going to play it right. He didn’t half-ass this. He pulled the jet from her lips before claiming them himself, tasting the chems from her mouth.

 

She brought her hips up against him, urging him on. She wrapped her fingers in his jacket. It wasn’t Hancock’s, just a red coat he’d found. The hat wasn’t the same either, just close enough. However, especially with her not on her best, they did the trick. As the chems swam through her she moaned, tilting her head back. “Fuck,” she muttered.

 

“You wanted me for long?” He leaned in, whispering into her ear as he brought his fingers to her cunt. The chems didn’t last long, and he wanted to take full advantage of them.

 

“Yes,” she moaned. “Fuck, yes, Hancock.”

 

The name made his shoulders tighten, his head spin.

 

He slipped a finger into her, finding her already wet. She wanted this, loved the idea of Hancock having his way with her. It hurt, and he dug that deeper. “What is it you want me to do? Come on, sister, explain it in detail. I want to hear exactly what you want from me.” He tried to keep his voice low, even, but he didn’t feel calm. His insides churned with the memory of Hancock against her, the way she smiled. Even if he started this game, the idea of her wanting him, it twisted him.

 

She lifted her hips, trying to force him faster. “I imagine you going down on me. The way you’re always talking, the way you use that tongue to charm anyone, I figure you must be pretty damned good with it.”

 

He scooted down, spreading her legs. “How long have you been fantasizing about me?”

 

“Since I first saw you, since you stabbed Finn for me.”

 

Yeah, Deacon remembered that. He’d been there for that. The cocky Mayor had sauntered out and gutted the fool who tried to work Nora over.  “You think about that a lot?”

 

She frowned, as if his voice edged past the jet, past the alcohol. “Wait a minute.” She pushed at him with her foot, a weak protest.

 

“Why? I was all over you at the party. You know this is exactly what I wanted, and Sunshine, I can tell you want it, too.” He pressed two fingers into her hard, not easing into it, not preparing her, and she winced at the suddenness.

 

Fuck, what was he doing?

 

He pulled his hand back. “Sorry,” he said, voice shaky. What was this? What the hell was he doing? He’d hurt her.

 

Nora scrambled back, pulling her legs together. “What’s wrong with you?”

 

“Nothing.” He pulled his gaze away from her, from the way she got off the bed, unsteady. “I don’t know. It’s just a game.”

 

She shook her head, stumbling to the chair by the wall. She fell into it and pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. “No, that wasn’t a game. Are you jealous? Is that what this is?”

 

“I’m not jealous. To be jealous there’d have to be something between us and there isn’t.” He knew the words were a mistake the second the slipped from his mouth.

 

Her face reiterated it. Pain flickered across it before she smoothed it over like he’d taught her. Fuck, he hated her using that on him of all people. “I want you to leave, now.”

 

He got off the bed and took a step toward her, but she lifted a single hand, flat, a clear as fuck ‘stop right there’ signal. “Out.”

 

He sighed, rubbing his hand against his neck. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come by in the morning. A good night’s sleep’ll help us both.”

 

She said nothing, dropping her head against her knees.

 

Fuck.

 

What had he done?

 

#

 

Wetness covered Nora’s arm from the tears. She’d tried to stop them, but between the jet and the beer, they were out of her control.

 

Deacon had said there was nothing between them.

 

She knew he had his issues, but he’d thrown those words like a blade, knowing how they’d land, planning them.

 

Fuck that. She was no one’s charity case, she was no one’s whipping boy. He could have all the self-loathing he wanted, she wasn’t about to let him take it out on her.

 

Saying it made her feel more confident, but she had no idea if she spoke the truth.

 

Everything floated around her, her mind muddled by the chems and alcohol. She grabbed the jet canister Deacon left, which had rolled near the chair. She took another hit of it and stretched her legs out in front of her, her head dropping back. The night had hurt too much. She wanted the haze the chems gave her.

 

Later, though she had no idea how much later, a set of hands grasped her knees.

 

She opened her eyes to meet a man in a red coat and red hat. Deacon was trying again. Hadn’t she made herself clear?

 

“Hey, Sunshine,” he rasped.

 

“Go away, Deacon. I don’t want to play with you.”

 

He lifted his head, and Nora sucked in a breath.

 

It wasn’t Deacon on his knees in front of her, but Hancock.


	11. Chapter 11

Hancock had one eyebrow lifted, hands on the inside of Nora’s knees, not pressing them apart but making his wants clear. “It’s the real thing, sister.”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

He smiled, that smirk she loved. “These are some thin walls, and voices travel pretty far.”

 

“You heard?”

 

“Heard Deacon fucking you while you pretended he was me? Yeah, I heard that. Got to say, I’m flattered, but you could have come to me. I told you that you knew where to find me.”

 

“Deacon. . .” she hesitated, no idea how to end that sentence.

 

“That man is fucked fifty different ways, love. Whatever you want from him, I don’t think you’re gonna get it. But, I’m here. Do you want me to go?” His face was open, honest, and fuck she’d missed that. She missed that ability to be with someone who wasn’t hiding, who wasn’t pretending. Games were fun, but only when something real was under it, and Deacon wouldn’t give her anything real. Hancock was offering her that.

 

She shook her head, the jet giving her more confidence. “Don’t go, please.”

 

He pressed her thighs apart and pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. “I like that answer.” He mirrored the kiss to her other knee. “Got to say, hearing what you wanted from me, it surprised me that you wanted exactly what I do. Been thinking about this for a long time.”

 

“Then why. . .” Her head still swam, thoughts moving slow.

 

“Why didn’t I act on it? Never figured you’d be interested. I mean, you’re a widow, a Mother hell-bent on revenge, reshaping the whole fucking Commonwealth. Didn’t figure you’d want anything like that from me.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss the middle of each thigh. “Nice to be wrong for once.”

 

“Deacon and I-“

 

“-play this sort of thing a lot? I’m not surprised. Seems like something he’d do, anything to be someone else. Do you love him?”  He kissed the crease of her thighs, one side, then the next. His breath spilled across her cunt.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Fair enough.” He pressed a kiss to her slit. “The thing you’ve got to understand is that Deacon can’t love you back because he doesn’t love himself, doesn’t know shit about himself. Can’t really give something away he doesn’t have.”

 

“You don’t love me either.”

 

He laughed against her before snaking his tongue out to part her folds. “No, I don’t. Not yet. I think I could, someday. I’m not offering you love right now, though. I’m offering to fuck you, to help you forget about that jackass.” He twirled his tongue around her clit, then blew a stream of cold air against her. “You want me to do that? If not, I’ll walk out, leave you alone, no hard feelings. You’re calling the shots here.”

 

Yeah, she wanted it. The pain of Deacon’s words, they throbbed, like a fresh wound. She wanted to ease it away, to erase it. The way Hancock slid his tongue against her helped, and she needed more of it.

 

Deacon had been fucking crystal clear. He didn’t want her.

 

So fuck him.

 

“I want you,” she whispered.

 

He winked at her. “Good. Sit back and enjoy the ride, sunshine.” He fell upon her, his mouth rough as he licked her. His hands spread her, sliding back the hood of her clit, exposing it for him to torment. Nora gripped the armrests of the chair, her head falling back.

 

“Eyes on me,” he snapped. “Better. I don’t mind you imagining other men are me, but I sure as fuck want you thinking about me when I’m doing this. I’m a more jealous man than Deacon.”

 

His tongue slid past his ruined lips, dipping into her, teasing her. She’d never watched a man go down on her before. Some dark thrill came over her, some filthy pleasure from seeing him lick her, seeing him work her cunt with his tongue.

 

He slid one finger into her and curled it forward, toward him, never stopping the work of his tongue. Her hips bucked against him, her muscles tightening as her climax approached. Her eyes slid closed, and he nipped her folds to remind her. She opened them, his smirk greeting her.

 

One slow lick was all it took to send her over the edge. She arched back in the chair, hand reaching forward and digging into his shoulder, clutching around him for something to ground her against the waves of pleasure, against the way her orgasm played with the jet to send her afloat.

 

His voice rasped in her ear. He’d stood up, leaning forward. “Relax, sweetheart. Not used to coming on jet I take it? It’ll pass, just breathe through it.” His fingers rubbed her cunt, slow, ignoring the clit.

 

It felt like forever before her muscles started to unknit, when she eased back.

 

“That was fucking beautiful, you know that? Jet makes it last longer, draws it out. You feel like you’re dying and like there’s nothing better in the whole damned world.” He kissed her, deep, his tongue sliding into her mouth. She licked her wetness off his lips, his tongue.

 

He leaned against her, his erection pressing against her through his pants. It caught her clit and she arched again, gasping.

 

His teeth caught her bottom lip, leaving a sting, before he backed off. “Not tonight.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Don’t want you having any regrets. We don’t need to move too fast. Better if you spend the night sobering up, so you can think straight in the morning.” He pulled back, but Nora caught his wrist.

 

The idea of going to sleep alone terrified her. Deacon had thrown her away, had hurt her, even scared her if she were honest. The spy had always been even-tempered, funny, but never scary. His face had scared her though, when he’d pushed his fingers into her, the rage he’d mentioned before but she’d never witnessed peeking through his eyes. Then Hancock had sent her over an edge she wasn’t sure she was ready for. She felt adrift, totally alone with no anchor.

 

She said none of that, though, only held his wrist.

 

He smiled, wrapping his hand around her hand. “Come on, Sunshine. You can crash in my bed.”

 

Her stomach rolled, relief fighting with hurt. She didn’t want to be in Hancock’s bed, but the man she wanted to be in bed with didn’t want her.

 

Fuck unrequited love.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Where was she?

 

Deacon frowned, the bed empty. She’d been angry, sure, but angry enough to leave without him?

 

No. That would be running away, and his Nora ran from nothing. Maybe she’d gotten up early, headed down to sell off some gear?

 

Her soft voice floated through another door, through Hancock’s door. “No, you keep sleeping. It’s fine. I’m gonna get going.”

 

“I don’t get up early for much, but I’d fucking rise for you, sunshine.”

 

She laughed, and the voices drifted away, only a small moan in their space. He must have kissed her. “I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t want you missing your beauty sleep.”

 

More words passed, but he missed them, static filling his ears as he tried to control his breathing. He forced his face blank, to hide everything that wanted to stroll across it.

 

Nora slid out, closing the door behind her. She backed away from the door, not having spotted him. At least not until she spun and ran right into his chest.

 

Her cheeks flushed and she avoided his eyes. A red mark on her bottom lip caught his attention.

 

A bite mark, one he didn’t fucking leave.

 

“Good morning,” she said, voice soft.

 

He smiled, ignoring the sharp edges he knew it had. He was doing the best he could. “Morning.”

 

“I need to get dressed.” She nodded down at her outfit, the same dress she’d worn the night before. Without waiting for a response, she walked into her room and Deacon followed, like his feet had a mind of their own.

 

She didn’t care that he followed, or showed no reaction to it. He closed the door behind her as she undid the buttons of the dress and slipped it off.

 

“So, Hancock?” He tried to keep his voice casual.

 

“Since there’s nothing between us, I don’t think that is any of your business.”

 

Deacon caught her arm after she slid on a pair of panties. “Just, wait. I want to talk to you.”

 

“Why? You talk but you say nothing. What’s the point in talking if you just lie to me.” She shoved his hand away, and he let it drop. “You’ve made it pretty damned clear you don’t really want to talk to me.”

 

“I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean for the game to go that far.”

 

“Game?” Nora walked up and shoved him. “That’s the whole damned point! That wasn’t a game. Hell, if we’re being honest, that little outburst was the first real thing you’ve showed me.”

 

“I thought you liked playing our games.”

 

Nora pulled her normal clothing from her pack and dressed as she spoke. “I do. I just want them to be a game, not a way to hide. I like Fancy Lad Cakes, but I can’t live off them, they’ll make me sick.”

 

“Is that what I’m doing? I’m making you sick.”

 

“Not yet, but fuck, Deacon, we’re getting there. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend I don’t care about you, can’t pretend you don’t care about me. I get it, you’ve got shit in your head that is screwing this up, but I can’t do this anymore.”

 

Deacon’s chest hurt, his mouth dry, throat tight. Fuck, he didn’t expect things to go this way this morning. He thought he’d show up, she’d be pissed but he’d charm her with a few compliments and they’d be fine.

 

She sat on the end of the bed, lacing up her boots. “Hancock asked me last night if I loved you. I’ve been thinking about that all night.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I’m a fucking idiot, but yeah, I love you. You made it clear from day one what you wanted and what you didn’t, and I went ahead and fell in love with someone who could never love me back. I knew better, but I couldn’t help it. Can’t even blame you, can I? You told me, right from the start.”

 

The words kicked Deacon. Fuck, she loved him? His lungs stopped working, sweat beading on his brow. She couldn’t love him. That’s not how this worked.

 

A hollow laugh came from her throat. “Just the idea that I could love you sends you into a panic.”

 

“I-“

 

“-don’t need to say a fucking thing. I think we’re past that, don’t you? Tell Dez I need a little time off.”

 

“You’re going to stay here? With him?”

 

Nora stared at the wall that separated Hancock’s room from hers. “He wants me here. That’s more than I can say for anyone else in my life right now.”

 

“I want you,” he whispered.

 

She smiled, full of sadness and the things he wouldn’t give her, couldn’t give her. “Maybe. But not enough to get over everything in your head. I wasn’t kidding, I fucking love you, but I’m done with this bullshit. You won’t even try, and if you won’t try, we can’t work.” She stared down at her hands. “I’m so fucking sick of Fancy Lad Cakes.”


	13. Chapter 13

 

“You okay there, sister?” Hancock sat across from Nora, his legs spread obscenely, one beside her and the other over the back of the couch. “Been quiet all night.”

 

“I will be.”

 

Hancock had been sweet, for him at least. He’d flirted, but pushed no further. They’d shared a few kisses, but they’d felt wrong. The first night’s mixture of pain and chems had let her forget, let her sink into the warmth and honesty Hancock offered, but without those things, she couldn’t let go. He wasn’t Deacon, and she loved Deacon.

 

Still, he’d watched over her, kept her company, offered her sex, all the things a good host would do.

 

“I’ve got to say, I thought you were smarter than falling for someone like him.”

 

“Yeah, so did I.” Nora leaned her head back, counted the wood pieces on the ceiling to pass the time. It had been a week since she’d seen Deacon, since she’d said she needed time. She thought she’d feel his eyes on her from time to time, on the edge of her perception, but she hadn’t caught sight of him.

 

“Sort of obvious you’re not really feeling me.”

 

The memory of his tongue against her made her shiver. “I don’t know about that.”

 

He laughed and shook his head. “Ah, sweetheart, an appreciation for great oral skills is not the same thing. I could turn Maxson into a fan with my mouth.” He winked before sitting up straight and taking her hand in his. “I get it. But, that’s not me. Been a week and it’s pretty obvious we aren’t exactly working. You didn’t answer me that night, but it’s clear as fucking crystal, sister. You love that idiot.”

 

“Yeah, I do. It’s just, he doesn’t want me.”

 

“What makes you say that? Can’t say I’ve seen a more love sick fool. Well, other than you. Really, you both bring down the vibe of my whole town. You need to fix this shit or I’m going to bar you both from here.”

 

Nora shoved his arm. “He doesn’t want anything real. He’s fine with games, but the second anything gets close to him he bolts. Hell, he didn’t seem to give a fuck about us. He left here like I meant nothing to him.”

 

“You sure about that?”

 

“Yeah, my week here without him makes me pretty fucking sure.”

 

Hancock sighed then tossed an arm around Nora, leaning in and whispering in her ear. “Do me a favor. Count the number of neighborhood guards in this room.

 

“Three.”

 

“Yeah, I only have two assigned here. My count has been up one anywhere you are for a week. Want to look a little closer and reevaluate if he actually left?”

 

Nora frowned, but eyed the guards. Sure enough, in the back corner, Deacon’s stupid fucking glasses met her. How hadn’t she realized? Because she hadn’t expected it, hadn’t looked for it.

 

“When I can’t even trick a junkie ghoul, I know my spy days are over,” Deacon said, pulling off his fedora.

 

“Hey, the Mentats allow me to know the difference between two guards and three.”

 

“How long have you known?”

 

“From the start. A man like you wouldn’t back off so easily.”

 

“What are you doing here?”  Nora dropped her gaze. Looking at him hurt and she was tired of hurting.

 

“Give us a minute, could you, Hancock?”

 

Hancock stood. “Sure. Why not? Like I said, you two are fucking with my good vibes.”

 

The door clicked closed behind him, and Nora still wouldn’t lift her gaze.

 

Deacon crouched down in front of her, then lifted her face with a hand beneath her chin. “I’m sorry.”

 

“So, what? You were just going to follow me around and spy on me for the rest of our lives?”

 

“No. I just, I needed to make some decisions. You were right, I was being a coward. I don’t know if I can fix everything wrong with me, there’s so fucking much of it.” His voice came out quiet, like he forced each word out, but he was talking. That was miles ahead of any other time. He was talking, and they sure didn’t sound like lies.

 

“What decisions did you come up with?”

 

He took a deep breath, then cupped his hands on the sides of her face. “I want to try.”

 

#

 

Nora walked into Homeplate, but the place held none of the warmth she’d grown accustomed to. That happened when she left for too long, all the life leaked out of it.

 

“I was wondering if you’d show up.” Deacon sat in a chair by the stairs, dressed only in jeans and a t-shirt. He normally wore that only when at HQ, the only place he didn’t dress up.

 

“I told you I would.”

 

“Yeah, but I couldn’t really blame you if you decided you’d had enough of me. Not like you haven’t given me enough chances already.” His voice dripped with self-condemnation. Nora expected a joke to soften it, but nothing came.

 

“You been here long? Just sitting there?”

 

He laughed, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. “A few hours. Just long enough to let panic get a good grip.”

 

Nora sighed, tossing her coat on the table by the door. “You don’t have to do this. Yeah, I want you, but you don’t have to reciprocate.”

 

“I want you, too. I was serious, Charmer, I want to try.”

 

“Let’s start by you using my name.”

 

He took a deep breath. “Nora.”

 

“Better. That sounds nice, you know?”

 

“Can you do something for me?”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t use my name. We won’t play a game, I’m not gonna be anyone else, but you can’t use my name.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Deacon’s foot bounced, like he had too much energy to contain, like he couldn’t sit still. “Deacon isn’t my real name, it’s a codename, like all the others. But, my real name, I can’t stand it either. My real name died when my wife did, with the piece of shit I was back then.”

 

“What do you want me to call you?”

 

“Fuck if I know.”

 

Nora nodded and walked over to him. She pulled a chair up in front of him, sitting so her knees brushed his. They’d had sex many times, but this felt new, like a first, like they needed to negotiate this all out. “So how do you want this to go?”

 

He laughed. “I’m not a blushing virgin here, we don’t need to do this.”

 

“I think we do. You’ve fit into each role we’ve played, and I have no idea what you like, what you want, what you hate.”

 

“I like you,” he said, throwing her that cocky grin she’d missed. “You know, it wasn’t all a game. I tried to keep it a game, but it would slip, I’d slip up. I’ve spent so many years playing parts, and I never slipped until you. You undo me, make me forget what the fuck I’m doing.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

 

“So, I was hoping. . .” He held up a pair of handcuffs.

 

“I thought we weren’t playing games.”

 

“No game. I don’t want you to pretend I’m someone else, but when you had me tied up, damnit, Nora, I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t remember who I was supposed to be; I just felt, reacted. I want that again, I want to not think, to not second guess.”

 

Nora’s fingers brushed his as she took the cuffs. “You’re sure?”

 

He nodded. “Fuck, yes, I’m sure.”


	14. Chapter 14

Deacon tried to keep his breathing steady, but Nora did that to him. She stole every little bit of sanity he had, every bit of control he prided himself on. And now, naked except for his sunglasses, standing in the center of her place, he had no hope of staying detached and controlled.

 

“You do look good, you know that?”

 

He swallowed but said nothing as she walked a circle around him. When she reached in front of him again, she lifted her hands to his face. He winced when the glasses came off, his last defense, the part of him he wore no matter what.

 

“Better. You have pretty eyes. I like seeing them.”

 

Nora left him to set the glasses down, placing them on the table by the door softly, like she knew exactly how important they were to him.

 

When she returned, she laughed. “Relax.” She pulled his lips down to hers. She didn’t rush the kiss, didn’t try to make it go faster, just tried to coax him to relax.

 

After a moment he did, bit by bit. He brought his hand up, placing it behind her head, pulling her deeper into the kiss. Her lips quirked up when he did, like she’d been waiting for that.

 

“Sit in the chair.” She nodded toward a basic wooden chair off to the side.

 

“Why?”

 

Nora walked past him, setting her hands on the back of the chair. “Does it matter? Come on, do as your told.”

 

She waited, like she had all day. Deacon took a deep breath, reminded himself this was what he’d wanted. He fought the desire to make a joke, to take the attention off him, to make some pretense to allow him to distance himself from the moment. After a minute, he walked forward, each step slow, careful. She didn’t touch him as he sat, almost like she knew he’d bolt.

 

“I’m gonna cuff your hands behind you. You okay with that?”

 

He nodded.

 

“I want to hear you.”

 

“Yes.” He steadied his voice and tried again. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

 

Her fingertips brushed his wrists as she guided them back, around the chair, and cuffed them together. He pulled against the restraint, testing them. Not too tight, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

Nora moved in front of him and knelt, setting her hands on the tops of his thighs. “You have any idea how good you look? Even before this all, I fantasized about your body.”

 

Deacon frowned, brows drawing together. Probably not a good idea to tell the woman who has you handcuffed that she’s an idiot, even if you’re sure of it.

 

“I walked in on your changing one time, just a week after we started doing missions together. You were behind a building, putting on some disguise, and I walked around while you were in next to nothing.” She slid her hands up his thighs, avoiding his cock, and gripped his hips. “Fuck, I thought about that when we settled in for the night. You were checking the perimeter, and I took advantage of the alone time to work out some of my own frustrations. Not that I expected anything to come of it, tried to pretend I didn’t think about you like that.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?’

 

“Because I want you to know how I see you, how much I want you. Not all the people you pretend to be, but you.”

 

He sucked in a breath, hands jerking behind him. He wanted to bolt. Fuck this idea.

 

“Shh, it’s okay.” She leaned in and kissed his hip, on the side of his waist, then the other. “I’ll let you go if you want. All you’ve got to do is tell me to stop and I will. But you should take a deep breath and decide if that’s what you really want.”

 

Air shuddered from his lungs. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. Don’t stop.”

 

“Good boy.” She rewarded him by pressing his legs apart, wide, and sliding in closer. “I like telling you how good you are, how much I want you. You flush, and with your skin, it shows up so well. Even when you want to pretend like you don’t care, your skin doesn’t lie.” Nora kissed his ribs, hands still on his waist. She peppered the kisses up to his pecs, before licking over one nipple, then the other.

 

Deacon groaned, dropping his head back. His legs tried to close, but with her between them, he had nowhere to go. Nora continued, lavishing attention on his chest, his ribs, his stomach. Everything in him ratcheted tighter, sweat beading, rolling down over his skin, and she hadn’t touched his cock, yet.

 

Fuck, he was helpless against her. Him, the man who could manipulate anyone, who could push anyone to do anything he wanted, couldn’t do a damn thing against Nora. She undid him, turned him into whoever he was beneath it all, and amazingly enough, she didn’t blink away from whoever the fuck that happened to be.

 

Hell, Deacon wasn’t even sure who it was anymore.

 

Nora licked his lips, and he leaned as far as he could to capture a kiss but she pulled back, mischievous grin across her lips. She leaned down and drug her tongue along the side of his cock, hands still pinning his hips, keeping him from thrusting from doing anything but accepting.

 

She repeated the motion on the other side. “Fuck, Nora.” Her real name slipped from his lips, so natural he couldn’t help it.

 

“You like that?”

 

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”

 

She laughed, breath spilling over his length, before she slid her lips over the head of his cock, playing with his foreskin, dragging a broken moan from his lips. She didn’t rush, didn’t take him deep, only lavished attention on the head, like she planned on doing this all night.

 

Not that he’d last all night. Even then he had to try anything to keep from spilling. Long division, batting averages that Moe talked about, hell he’d think about Strong eating people if it kept his mind in the game.

 

Nora pulled off and gazed up at him. “Holding back?”

 

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat, the lie less convincing given the kick motion his cock did when he spotted the saliva still covering him.

 

“Come on, just give in. Last time you let me do this you didn’t let me finish you off. I want that, I want to feel you come in my mouth, I want to swallow it, to look up at you while you come apart.”

 

“But you. . .”

 

“Forget about me for once, okay? Every time we’ve been together, you’ve been focused on me, on giving me what you think I want. Don’t think right now, just feel. Not that I’m going to give you a choice. You can fight it all you want, but you will come.” She bit down lightly on his thigh before returning his mouth to his cock.

 

This time she didn’t play, sliding him deep, deep enough her throat started to squeeze the head. Fuck, that wasn’t fair. How was he supposed to keep his head straight when she did that? When her nails bit into his skin, when she moaned, vibrating around his cock?

 

His hands drew into fists and his shoulders pulled as he came, and just as she’d said, she swallowed every drop, then used her tongue to clean him as he softened. He closed his eyes, head hanging back, tired down to his fucking core. When was the last time he’d come like that? Not as a lie, not as someone else, but just as him? Not trying to get information, or please someone else, but just because it felt fucking good and he wanted it?

 

Hell, it had been too damned long. Not since Barbara, and even then, had he really been honest with her?

 

No, not really.

 

Nora’s fingers grazed his wrists as she undid the cuffs. Once free, he pulled her around and captured her mouth in a kiss, in the only thank you he could think of. He started to pull at the button of her pants, but she closed her hands around his, stopping him.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I just want to lie next to you, okay? I want you to stay tonight, for the first time, and we’ll see what happens. If we fuck, then okay. If we don’t, that’s fine too. This isn’t a game, this isn’t something we’ve got to rush.” She took a deep breath, and for the first time he realized how nervous she was. This wasn’t just about him, about all the ways he was fucked up, it was about her, too. “Is that okay?”

 

He smiled, and fuck if it wasn’t a real one for once. “Yeah, but don’t think for a moment I’m not returning the favor.”


	15. The End

 

Nora laid beside Deacon, neither touching, both on their backs, staring at the ceiling. They’d laid there for an hour, maybe more, in silence. What was there to say? That ease in which they’d lived had slipped away, replaced with what? Something real?

 

“So,” Deacon said. “Read any good books lately?”

 

Nora laughed and elbowed him. Leave it to Deacon to make any situation comfortable. “Shut up.”

 

He cast her a sidelong glance and grinned. Damn, she liked him without those glasses.

 

“So, what does this all mean? Does it mean we can’t ever play again? Because, I’ve got to say, I did enjoy that.”

 

“Hell no. I think playing is fine, as long as there’s something real beneath it. None of this using it to get out of feeling something, as a way to hide. You want us to pretend to be whoever, that’s fine. You know I liked it, at first. I just don’t want you to hide from me.”

 

Deacon rolled over, sliding between Nora’s legs, perched above her. “I’m done hiding, Nora. I can’t say I’m not still fucked up, we both know I am, but I’m here. I want this. It’s going to be slow going, going to take time, and I’m going to fuck up, but I’m here.”

 

Nora reached between them and lined him up, rubbing his cock against her. He’d had time to rebound, and she’d been drenched since earlier. Hell, was she ever not turned on around him? “Come on, then, show me.”

 

He leaned down and captured her lips as he slid in. Nora groaned, clutching her fingers to his shoulders, urging him on. They’d had sex already, but this was different. Fuck, it was better. Deacon wasn’t playing a part, wasn’t trying to pretend, he was just there, with her. He’d always made her feel connected, even during their games, even when he was anyone else, he made her not feel alone. In a world where she’d lost everything, he’d given her something new.

 

“Damnit, Nora, you feel amazing,” he pressed his face into her hair, one hand holding his weight and the other sliding between them, finding her clit. He didn’t fuck her hard, probably since he’d already come once. He took his time, sliding in deep, rubbing his fingers against her clit until she was begging.

 

“Fuck, love, don’t tease me.”

 

He paused, leaning back. “Love?”

 

“Too much? Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

 

He kissed her, claiming her mouth. “Shut up, Nora. I said don’t call me Deacon, don’t call me my old name, but fuck, Nora, you can call me love.”

 

Deacon stopped playing, stopped taking his time. He took her hard, fast. She clung to him, bringing her hips to up to meet his thrusts. He bit at her shoulder. “Say it again. Call me that again. I want to hear you moaning that when you come.”

 

He closed his fingers around her clit and pinched. Nora arched up against him, her cunt squeezing down on him. “Oh fuck, yes, love,” she moaned.

 

His body shuddered above her, cock twitching as he came, pulling a whimper from her at the movement. He pulled out and collapsed beside her, arm thrown over her chest, holding her close.

 

“You know, I love you,” he whispered.

 

“You’re just saying that so I’ll tie you up again.”

 

He laughed, pulling her closer and curling around her. “Maybe. But you love me, too.”

 

She smiled. “Maybe.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends the main "arc" of the story. They are together, yay! 
> 
> I'll continue to update chapters with more smut, more role playing, and more helping Deacon with all his hang-ups , however, so this isn't the end of what will be written between them.


	16. Chapter 16

Nora woke when Deacon jerked in his sleep, elbowing her in the ribs.

 

It wasn’t the first nightmare to happen, the first time he’d woken in a sweat, sometimes with tears streaking down his face, sometimes gasping. He didn’t know she knew. She’d let him have his secrets, but the dreams had gotten worse.

 

It had been a few weeks since they’d decided to really try this whole love thing, since they’d stopped playing their games and started trying for real.

 

And the nightmares had become worse every night. At first he’d only jerk in his sleep, but now, every night, he woke panting, almost screaming.

 

Deacon gasp, sitting up, sweat pouring off him. He reached out, frantic, patting his hands down Nora’s side like he had no idea if she was there, if she was real.

 

Normally she let him do this, pretended to be asleep, left him to his privacy.

 

But this had to stop. He needed sleep. Hell, they both did, and Deacon was great at pretending problems didn’t exist.

 

“What are the nightmares about? Are they about Barbara?”

 

His breath filled the room, loud, erratic. He swallowed once and tried for a flippant laugh. “I dream about Tom probing me.”

 

Nora sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Right.”

 

He settled in behind her and pressed his lips against her neck. Always sex with him. He tried to fix any problem with orgasms, and while he could deliver, it didn’t help the emptiness she felt when he withdrew like this, when he kept her at a distance. She loved him, and she knew he loved her, but sometimes that shit in his head took a toll.

 

She scooted away from his touch.

 

His breath slid across his neck as he sighed. “I’m sorry. I just, it hurts to think about. I don’t want to lay this shit on your shoulders. You’ve got enough to worry about.”

 

“I love you. I want to help. And the dreams are getting worse, have been ever since we started to live together. Is it my fault?”

 

He rubbed his hand up her arm, slow, like he was still trying to reassure himself she was okay. “No, Nora. It’s not your fault.” He was silent so long, Nora thought he’d never speak. “I never told you exactly what happened to my wife.”

 

“You said she was killed.”

 

“She was. But, it was a hell of a lot worse than that. The men who killed her did it to teach me a lesson. They were friends of mine, I guess you could call them, from before. I had been trash, just like them, a violent bigot who had decided synths were to blame for all the problems with the world. I realized how wrong I was, but not before I helped lynch someone. Fuck, Nora, I don’t even know if it was actually a synth, and worse, I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse about it.”

 

Nora wanted to roll over, to wrap her arms around him, but she knew Deacon well enough. Any movement might send him back to silence.

 

“So when I found Barbara, I thought I had a second chance, that I could start over, that I could do things right. And, for a while, I did. Then they found us, and they figured out she was a synth. Neither of us knew, but they killed her for it.”

 

He shuddered, and Nora couldn’t take it anymore. She rolled, scooting closer, wrapping one leg around his hip. She wanted him to know she wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m sorry. I know how it feels to lose your partner. And that’s when you killed them all? And now the Railroad accepting you makes more sense, after killing a group dedicated to killing synths.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, his skin clammy. “So you dream about finding her?”

 

He shook his head. “I dream about finding you like that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it is that no one gets a second chance. No one escapes payment for the things they’ve done. I’ve spent my life trying to make up for the person I was, but life doesn’t let you go. I dream I’m going to find you strung up, or slaughtered by some enemy, and that it’s all still going to be payment for my sins.”

 

#

 

Deacon closed his eyes, tried to block out the way images of Nora came to him, bloodied just like Barbara had been.

 

Her hand rubbed his arm, steady. She wasn’t anything like Babara, if he was honest. Barbara had been honest, sweet, caring. Nora was tougher than that, could survive anything, but the idea of losing her, of being the cause, it had plagued him.

 

When they were playing, when nothing was real, he knew the world wouldn’t steal her away from him. Now he felt like he had painted a huge bullseye on her back.

 

“Sometimes I think maybe my real punishment is living. I’ve survived so many things that should have killed me. The switchboard, other courser attacks, the UP Deathclaws. I shouldn’t have lived through any of that. Had to be some punishment of mine to keep seeing other people die when I’m the one who deserves it.”

 

Nora pressed a kiss against his lips, not sexual, not pushing, just kindness. “You know what I think?”

 

He waited for her to scream, prepared himself for the moment when she realized she could do so much better and would jump out of his bed and leave him alone. “What?”

 

“I don’t think it’s a punishment. I think, maybe you’re my reward.”

 

He didn’t answer, not sure what to say back to that sort of logic.

 

“Hear me out. I lost everything. What if you survived all those things because you were supposed to be here? Because you’re supposed to help fill all that space of all those things I don’t have anymore. And, maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do for you. We’re both broken. Hell, I think the whole world is broken, but sometimes all you can do is keep moving forward. Sometimes I wish it was me who had been killed, not Nate. But, that’s not how it happened.”

 

Deacon returned her kiss from earlier, though he didn’t keep it sweet. He couldn’t. Even if there was some connection during sex now that there hadn’t been before, he was, at his core, still Deacon. His hand cupped her neck and deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, teasing her.

 

Nora broke the kiss and laughed. “You’re incorrigible, you know that? What is wrong with you?”

 

He let the smile slid off his lips and tried to keep his face honest, let her see the rips inside her, the scars and the open wounds. “Touching you reminds me that you’re not gone, not yet, at least.”

 

She smiled, rolled over to straddle him, and offered a deep kiss, like she rewarded him for his honesty.

 

He arched up on the back when she reached between them, because yeah, he was ready. He was always ready with her around. He hadn’t been kidding, having her like this, their bodies intertwined, not a breath between them, it was the only time he could breathe, the only time he knew for sure she was okay, at least right then.

 

She slid down, taking him deep inside her, one hand pressed to his chest. She always looked amazing above him, some unstoppable angel who could tear him apart, but who he knew, somehow, wouldn’t. The only person in the whole world that knew him, knew his secrets. The only one he trusted.

 

She rode him, nails digging into him, grounding him, chasing away the dreams, the nightmares, the worries. Nothing could live in the space between them, not at moments like this. Nothing else mattered.

 

By the time he came, and she collapsed down beside him, the sun had started to rise, casting light through the window of their home in Sanctuary. She set her head on his chest, releasing a contented sigh when he ran his fingers through her hair.

 

And what did you know? When they fell back asleep, he didn’t have a single nightmare.


End file.
